“ He placed a pinch of snow on his tongue and thought of making snow ice cream with Frank and their mother when they were small boys - 'First you stir in the vanilla' - Frank standing on a stool on his… Emily St. John Mandel
“ You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer. Cassandra Clare
“ Despite his care, Reid was still playing with fire, the kind that could without warning sheathe one’s whole life in irreversible conflagration. Paul Russell
